


Yesterday's Son

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Fluff, Gen, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: As the world fades away, Sam awakes on a beach.





	Yesterday's Son

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Heaven & Hell Bingo, this fills the Apocalypse square.

It had started with a whisper.

Metal had slashed through the air as a blade penetrated flesh and slipped between bones to spill sacred blood. With that singular death, the end had begun. An inexorable march had borne the entire world ceaselessly into oblivion. All because of one little death.

Ten years passed, each culminating in another step towards redemption. Someone had made a deal to preserve their world. But that had only delayed the inevitable. At the end of the decade, the end had claimed them all.

The dust had finally settled after weeks of endless fighting. All quiet on the abandoned city streets of Detroit, not a soul stirred. No one had survived the end. Not a single mortal creature had overcome that which had been foretold. No matter the choices they made, it always led to that final moment.

Fate. Destiny. Prophecy. Whatever you called it, the end had graced their world without warning. It had been nothing like the stories, the legends. In one moment, everything was fine. In the next, all hell had broken loose with a single choice.

None of that mattered then. Those boys had done their job and they had fulfilled their duty better than anyone could have hoped. That was, if anyone had known what to hope for. If only.

Buildings crumbled and faded from the world without witness. Long abandoned cars reduced to a fine grain and drifted away on the wind. Even the roads to nowhere soon evaporated and left behind nothing but open fields and sparse trees. But those too were not long for their world. The universe had run its course, breathed its last breath, and needed a little rest much like the people that had saved it.

And so, the fields of grass beneath the clear blue sky faded to nothing. The trees shriveled away and the sun’s light dimmed until it too ceased to exist. Then an inky black darkness settled as the moon and the sky vanished and left nothing in their wake. The universe had come undone, unraveled. Empty. Blank. A clean canvas.

“Sammy.”

Bright sunlight shown through closed lids as he squinted.

“Hey. Sam. Wake up, you gotta see this.”

Dean’s insistent shake of his shoulder dragged him up from the depths of a sleep he had not known in years. Too bright, Sam shielded his face as he opened one eye.

“What? What's going on?”

For a split second, Sam worried something had gone wrong but when he opened both eyes, he stared out over the ocean as the waves crashed upon the beach.

“Dolphins,” Dean said as he pointed. When he turned to Sam with a crooked grin, his face fell. “You okay? You look like you saw—”

“A ghost?” Sam interrupted with a grunt. He looked out to where Dean had pointed and found the pod of dolphins. “Yeah, must have been a bad dream.”

Dean turned to his left and asked, “Hand me a beer?”

Castiel flipped open the cooler and fished out a bottle of Margiekugel. With the top removed, he handed it to Dean who passed it on to Sam. “Here.”

Sam took the bottle but only held it, settled between his thighs clad in swimming trunks. “How long have we been here?”

Castiel leaned back in his chair and spoke. “Couple hours. Took a while to find some space. Beach is really crowded today.”

“Hey, man, are you alright?” Dean asked, a hand on his shoulder. “We've been here a while. You found this spot.”

When? Why couldn't he remember? He struggled to recall much of anything, in fact. Old memories, sure, but what of the last week? Month?

“Sam?”

Dean's concerned glare returned him to the present. With a shake of his head, Sam said, “Sorry. Must be the heat. And the beer.”

“You should probably drink some water,” Castiel growled as he passed a bottle of water to him. “And convince your brother to do the same.”

“Will you quit it with the water? I'm fine,” Dean barked as he handed the bottle to Sam. “But you’re not. What’s going on?”

He took the bottle despite his protests. “Dean, I'm fine. I think it's just the heat and I fell asleep. Weird dream.”

“What was it about?” Dean asked.

Sam wracked his brain as he tried to remember. “I… I'm not sure. For some reason, I thought the world was ending. Like, serious apocalypse level end.”

Dean scoffed at that, then laughed when Sam shrugged. “I'm surprised you're still worried about that.”

“I don't think I am,” Sam started. “Was just a dream…” His words trailed off, drowned by the waves as they crashed upon the beach.

“Okay,” Dean relented but not without another sidelong stare. “Just… lemme know if you want to go.”

Sam nodded as he looked out over the ocean. Mesmerized, he stared as a long-forgotten memory bubbled to the surface. He stood in a tiled hallway with Dean and they talked of a recent hunt. Dean appeared happy. And Sam remembered feeling happy, too.

But that was before…

“I’m glad we finally decided to do this,” Dean started. “Far as I'm concerned, we earned it.”

“Earned what?”

Dean glared at him. “Are you sure you're okay?”

Sam shrugged as he dug his toes in the sand. “Yeah, I feel fine. I just… my memory is a little fuzzy.”

“Huh. I suppose you did take another nasty shot to the dome again,” Dean explained.

Oh. A fight then. At least there was a reason for his aching head.

“Kinda why I figured we needed to hang it up. You were out for a few days. So, I called it. Time to retire.”

Retire.

Dean’s words echoed hollow between Sam’s ears, distant and unfamiliar. But then the memories flooded his mind as Sam recalled the last few months. The long battle, centuries foretold, had come to pass and they had won. Somehow, they had won. That part remained a mystery to him, and as he wracked his brain, little and less of it made any sense. One moment they had been fighting, pushing back angels and demons alike. And then the next…

The soft strums of a distant guitar penetrated his rambling thoughts, and a subtle tenor, warm and round, accompanied with words he knew by heart. He searched the beach for the source of the sounds and spotted a man a short way down the surf. He sat on a stool beneath an umbrella, a bucket at his feet. Passersby dropped coins and paper notes in as they walked, some stopped to listen, others hardly slowed. The man nodded his thanks, but never stopped signing, never stopped strumming, his song an endless story, perpetual, transcendent. But Sam knew it. He had heard it before, and so he hummed along.

The hours drifted by as the sun set to their right where land met the sea. Dean and Castiel began to gather up their things, folding chairs and collecting empty bottles. And though darkness loomed, the man and his guitar remained steadfast, still singing, still strumming. Compelled, Sam stood from his chair and crossed the beach, walking towards the setting sun. Something about that man resonated with him, and not just his song. As Sam neared him, his easy smile widened so his bright blue eyes crinkled. Through that familiar smile he sang those words Sam knew by heart.

He let the last chord ring, his story ended at long last. As the strings steadied, the man turned to him and spoke. “Hey, Sammy.”

Of course a random man on the beach with a guitar knew Sam’s name. No surprise there. “Hey.”

“You done good, son. You and your brother,” he continued. “Eh, and Cas, too, but I need to talk to him.”

Sam checked over his shoulder to find Castiel and Dean watched from their spot, waiting for him. When he turned back to the man, he asked. “What happened?”

The man gave him an appraising look. “Does it matter? You’re here with your brother and Cas.”

“I… can’t remember. There was fighting, a hell of a lot of fighting,” he said. “I thought the world was ending.”

The man shrugged. “Maybe it did.”

“What? How?” Sam asked, his heart racing.

The man raised a pleading hand as he spoke. “Sam, relax. You did what you had to do. Both of you did. And now…” he paused as he motioned to the beach, “you’re here.”

“But…” Sam stuttered, “what about everyone else?”

The man looked up and down the beach. “Oh, I imagine you might find them if you looked.”

Sam followed his stare along the ocean. “But… why?”

“Sam,” he started, “humans have been asking me that question for as long as I can remember. I still don’t have an answer. I probably never will.”

With another nervous look over he shoulder, Sam checked for Dean and Castiel. Dean raised both hands as if to ask what was going on, so Sam raised a single finger to ask for a little more patience. He turned back to the man and said, “Alright. Let’s say I believe you. If the world ended, then… what is all this?”

Those bright blue eyes looked out over the ocean once more before returning to his with an inquisitive gleam. “You haven’t puzzled it out yet?”

Sam shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand much of anything that’s gone on today.”

The man grasped his shoulder and pulled him close. “Just because things end doesn’t mean they cease to exist.”

“But it was the end, wasn’t it?” Sam asked.

The man quirked an inquisitive brow as he released Sam. With his guitar slung over his back, he hefted his bucket full of coins and notes of various denominations. As he turned and began to walk away, he looked over his shoulder and spoke.

“It was an ending.” He turned down the beach and waved. “See ya 'round, Sammy.”

Sam gaped, unwilling to believe anything he had heard. He turned to find Dean with his arms folded and Castiel sitting in the sand, chin resting in his hand. Did they know? Did Dean and Castiel understand what had actually happened?

Did he?

Sam turned back to ask the man one more question, but the beach sprawled empty, not a single footprint in the sand. His heart skipped a beat as he searched, eyes squinting in the fading daylight. Despite his best efforts, he found nothing. And then Sam understood. He could not have prayed for a better answer.

He turned on his heel with a small smile and returned to Dean and Castiel. As he neared, Castiel stood and hefted the cooler.

“What the hell were you doing?” Dean demanded. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked as he looked over his shoulder once more.

“You were standing there, by yourself,” Castiel stated. “When we get home, I highly recommend allowing me to check your concussion again.”

Sam shrugged as Castiel turned for the car and walked ahead of them. Before Dean moved, however, he glared at Sam once more and asked, “Are you sure you're okay? Positive?”

For the first time in so many years, Sam knew the answer without any doubt.

“I’m awesome. Let’s go home.”


End file.
